Hell's Bells
by A.G. Hart
Summary: All Sam wanted to do was find a book, but what he found was so much more exciting. Smutty fun. Just a Dean Girl trying to give Sam some love. Reviews, opinions and constructive criticism welcome and requested. This probably won't be a long one... Last chapter is up. Sorry it took so long.
1. Sgt Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club

Sam Winchester pulled the brim of his baseball cap low as he walked into the secondhand bookstore. He was trying to draw as little attention as possible, which is hard when you're 6-foot-7. He couldn't help himself though, he just had to check out Majorie's Menagerie of Misfits and Melodramas. He was in need of a new place to get books of the fiction variety since he was banned from the library. Something about returning too many books with blood stains and bullet holes. And this store seemed right up his alley.

He looked around, taking in all the clutter and colors. Aside from books there were random pieces of furniture, a display of crystals, a case of tinctures, paintings, jewelry, tie-dyed clothing, and coverings all over the walls. And that is just what he could see from being two feet into the store.

Sam was gazing over the racks, trying to find something that looked good. He wasn't really interested in vampires, witches, or zombies—he had enough of those in real life. He just wanted something normal, like _Robinson Caruso_ or _Moby Dick_.

"Can I help you find something?" a sultry voice said out of nowhere, startling him.

He turned to find a woman whose hair was the first thing he noticed. It was dyed in the Galaxy style. All the blues, purples, pinks and greens cascading down her shoulders and back were mesmerizing. And that was nothing compared to the woman beneath it.

She stood with the top of her head even with Sam's shoulders. Her face was tanned, her cheeks pink like she had just been doing something strenuous. Her periwinkle eyes sparkled with friendliness that Sam hadn't seen from a stranger in a long time. Her lips curled into a smile that offered so much more than just help finding a book. And it was hard to tell how old she was.

She carried a few extra pounds, but she carried them well. Her bare arms were toned. He assumed her legs would be as well, but couldn't tell from the flowing peasant skirt she was wearing. It was a royal blue and provided sharp contrast from her blood red tank top.

"Um, just looking." _At you,_ Sam finished his sentence in his head, trying to remember the last time his interest had been piqued.

She slid her arms around his and pulled him deeper into the store. "Don't be shy! Vampires? Dragons? Murder-mystery? Fair maidens? Dashing scoundrels?" she waggled her eyebrows at him. "I don't judge."

He couldn't help but smile at her cavalier. "Definitely not anything…supernatural," he told her.

"Ah, don't believe in that stuff?" she asked.

"Just not interested," he replied. "Anything more traditional? Maybe something historical?

"Fiction or non? American history? European? Any particular time era?" she threw the questions at his fast, maybe too fast from the look on his face.

"Oh my god. I am so sorry," she laughed a little. "I'm being pushy."

He smiled. "It's ok," he assured her.

"I just love books and I want everyone else to love books too," she told him. "Sometimes I think people don't like books because they haven't found the right one, so it's my passion to help everyone find the right book."

His smile widened. "I love books, too," he offered.

She made a show of looking him up and down. His hair was a little long, but it looked good. His eyes were a bluish color that made her think of a clear sky. He wore an old t-shirt, or it could've been one of those t-shirts that were made to look old, but somehow, he didn't seem the type. It was just a tad too tight, revealing his toned arms and what she imaged were six-pack abs. And his jeans, they fit perfectly. Not too tight. Not too loose.

"You look more like you tear books in half for fun than read them," she quipped, then chuckled and playfully slapped his arm.

"You have got to be Marjorie," he said with confidence, thinking this place was the living embodiment of the woman beside him.

She smiled a she shook her head. "Marjorie is my grandmother who owns the place. I'm Helen." She held out her hand to him. "But everyone calls me 'H'. Except for Grandma. She calls me Hell's Bells."

"Sam," he grabbed her hand and shook it, enjoying the normalcy of the exchange. "Nice to meet you."

A thought visibly drifted across her face and it changed to absolute delight. "Please tell me you have a brother and his name is Dean."

Sam's face fell. Great. "Yep. You know Dean?" he replied unenthusiastically.

She started to giggle at his response, then noticed the change in his face. "Wait, you really have a brother named Dean?"

Sam nodded, not sure where this was going.

"I was just joking around," she quickly told him. She didn't mean to bring up an obviously sore subject. "I love this book series, _Supernatural_ , and the main characters are Sam and his brother Dean."

"Oooohhhhh," Sam didn't know if that was better or worse. "You're a Carver Edlund fan…"

"You know the series?" she perked back up.

"Yeah, I know Chu…I mean Carver," he confessed.

She put her hand in front of her mouth and whispered loudly, "I know his real name is Chuck, too. We've met."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You've met?" he was very skeptical.

It was Helen's turn to nod. "He, weirdly enough, came into the store one day. Bought a couple knickknacks. Signed my books. He was very nice."

"How did you know it was him?" Sam asked. "He's a pretty private individual. There aren't any pictures of him that I'm aware of."

"You know, now that you mention it," she paused, tapping a finger on her chin. "He just came up and introduced himself. I guess I just thought he saw my books. I was kinda more in awe at actually meeting my favorite author and didn't really think about anything else too much."

Sam wondered about the coincidence. "I can see how that would go," he told her, remembering when he found out who Chuck really was.

"I mean, I was especially taken aback when he started talking about ancient texts and wanted to see my collection."

Sam perked up again. "You have a collection of ancient texts?"

She wondered if Sam could be more perfect. He was gorgeous, loved books, knew Carver Edlund AND was interested in ancient texts. She figured it was probably too soon to propose, not that she was his type. "I'm a philologist by day and run my grandmother's store by night…which means when I'm in town."

"Can I see your collection?" Sam asked. "I'm self-taught, but love reading historical texts, mythology, learning how to read dead languages."

Helen put the back of her hand against her forehead and pretended to swoon. In her best Southern accent she replied, "Be still by beating heart!"

In the process of her acting, she tangled her feet in her skirt and actually did start to fall—right into Sam. He caught her under the arms so that she didn't hit the floor. However, she did end up with her face right at his belt buckle.

She looked up at him, to see his face bright red. She wasn't sure if it was her face's nearness to his crotch or the face that, in this position, he had a perfect view down her shirt. Either way, it was sweet.

She turned out of his grip and plopped down on the floor, laughing so hard she could barely breath. Did she just really call him sweet? Her laughter was contagious and Sam soon started laughing as well.

She spun around on her butt so that she was facing Sam again. Then she held up her hands to him. Sam didn't hesitate in reaching down to help pull her up. She held on to one of his hands.

"Come on," she tugged on his hand. "They are in a room in the back."


	2. Come Sail Away

Sam had enjoyed the view when Helen had fallen a little too much. Seeing her in that position sent all sorts of erotic thoughts through his head. If he'd have been Dean, he'd have Helen in a compromising position already. But he wasn't so he followed where she led.

Sam was not expecting the room he was ushered into. It wasn't all that big, probably 20' by 20', but three of the walls were covered with books from floor to ceiling. The floor space held a couch with a lamp at either end and several display cases that no doubt held the most valuable of her pieces.

"All the ones stacked are just copies and translations," she told him. "I get them shipped from all over. Occasionally I find a rare one in all the mess."

"And the displays?" Sam asked, although he already knew what they were. He just liked the sound of her voice.

She beamed with pride as she started talking about them. "They are originals, mostly just pages not whole books, from some of the earliest known writings."

Sam walked up to the first one. It looked like it was hieroglyphs. "How come they aren't in a museum?"

"Oh, these are pieces that used to be in museums, but people just lost interest because bigger and better were found. I purchased them with very generous gifts that fund more research and expeditions."

Sam didn't hide his surprise very well and so Helen continued, "Like I said, occasionally we find a rare book and they can sell for a pretty penny. Not to mention all of Grandma Marjorie's occult stuff. It's more lucrative than you might think."

Sam looked a little embarrassed. "I didn't—"

She put a hand on his chest. "It's ok. I'd be surprised and curious too!"

He tried to respond, but was taken aback by how much the small touch re-ignited his excitement. He managed a smile as she turned to one of the displays, oblivious of her effect on him. He cleared his throat and turned to look at the same one.

"So, why does your grandmother call you Hell's Bells?" Sam casually asked as he admired the page of text.

Helen smiled. "I have naturally red hair," she told him. "And apparently I was a bit of a mischief maker when I was younger, so my dad's mom, Grandma Troy—"

"Wait," Sam interrupted her, not believing what he was hearing. "Your last name is Troy?"

She smiled, pleased he knew he Greek mythology. "Yep, that's me, Helen O. Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world," she rolled her eyes. She wasn't fishing for a compliment, just telling it like it was. "Wasn't Prince Paris waiting outside to whisk me away?" she added, swishing her skirt.

Sam laughed at her silliness. "Should I even ask what the 'O' stands for?"

"Absolutely nothing," she replied, scrunching up in her nose in playful distaste. "It's literally just an 'O'."

Sam shook his head, still smiling. "That's brutal! Who do they think you are? Truman?"

Helen laughed. She wished she were prettier so she might be a bit more confident in making a move. This man beside her was smart, funny, interested in dead languages and old literature, not to mention one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. There was little to no chance he was into her.

Sam decided her laugh was the best thing to happen to him today. He'd been so stressed out and consumed with everything that had been going on, but her laugh made him feel like the world might be alright. And it'd been a long time since he had that feeling.

"What's this one?" he asked, walking over to one a few feet away.

"That one's a mystery," she said, following him over. "The parchment carbon dates to a few thousand B.C., but no one can identify the language, so most experts think it's a fake."

Sam looked at the parchment, recognizing the writing. "It's Enochian," he told her, without thinking about what he was saying.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. "Enochian? Like 'language of the angels' Enochian?"

He nodded.

"I thought you weren't interested in that stuff," she teased while knocking him with her shoulder.

"I…" he couldn't think of a good reply because he was too busy trying to figure out what this parchment might be.

"I got something you might like over here, since you know what Enochian is," she walked towards a stack of books and started scanning the spines.

After a few minutes Sam turned to finally give her a reason when he stopped short of opening his mouth. Helen was bent over, looking at a couple of the books closer to the floor. Seeing her hips and the outline of her ass in such a position fully awakened the erection he'd been fighting since the view of her beautiful breasts. He wanted nothing more than to go over to her, grab her hips and bury himself inside her until they were both breathless and satisfied.

"Here it is!" she exclaimed as she grabbed the book. She quickly turned as she stood, finding herself looking at Sam's chest.

"Well, hello," she laughed, but stopped when she looked up into his eyes.

At first she thought she must be imagining the desire in his eyes. She didn't think of herself as a woman who kindled that much passion in anyone. But after a few, erratic heart beats, the flames were still burning in his eyes.

Her lips and mouth were suddenly dry. A heaviness settled in her breasts and a warmth started to spread at her core. She reflexively licked her lips.

Sam watched her pink tongue slide across the rose of her lips. He shivered slightly, imagining what it would feel like sliding down his hard shaft. Damn what she did to him.

"Can I kiss you?" Sam wanted to make sure they were on the same page.

"If you don't—" she started her reply but was cut off by Sam grabbing her around the waist with one arm, pulling her in close, and the other hand being buried in her hair as he kissed her fiercely.


	3. Gypsy

Marjorie Harris Troy was especially proud of her only grandchild, Helen. Helen had graduated college at the top of her class and was one of the most respected in her field of study. But Marjorie was disappointed that her granddaughter hadn't found love and was afraid she might become an old maid.

Marjorie was never far from her store. In fact, she lived in one of the two apartments above the store. The other, smaller one belonged to Helen when she was in town. When Helen wasn't in town, sometimes Marjorie let hunters stay there, although this wasn't well-known in the community and Helen didn't know at all. The store and Helen were the only things left in this world that she loved.

Marjorie had been raised by hunter parents, but didn't want that for her children. She had succeeded where Mary Winchester had failed and her only son thought ghosts and goblins, werewolves and vampires and things that go bump in the night only existed in books, movies and the imaginations of small children. Helen had curiosity when she was a child, but after her parents were killed in an accident, she became extremely serious and ended up just humoring her grandmother's "occult" fascinations.

Unbeknownst to Helen, the store had extremely high-tech security, including cameras that watched the store inside and out, 24/7. Some of the items Helen thought to be just trinkets were actual artifacts and items of power. Marjorie had to make money somehow. Her granddaughter had an expensive hobby. It's not like she lied to her granddaughter; the occult business was lucrative.

So when the handsome stranger walked in, Marjorie was not taken unawares. And when he took off his hat, well, she recognized the younger Winchester brother right away. _What luck!_ the old woman thought. She knew her granddaughter loved the _Supernatural_ book series and here was one of the stars himself. And he just happened to be Helen's preferred brother.

Marjorie wasn't really one to use spells or magic, but she wasn't above it either. She knew Helen was a bit shy and didn't always have the highest self-confidence, so she decided to give the situation a little nudge. But Marjorie would never do anything to cause artificial feelings. She just used a little spell to drop some of Helen's inhibitions and make them both more aware of any feelings that might be there. She would let her granddaughter's wonderful personality and natural attraction do the rest.


	4. Afternoon Delight

Helen started to feel light-headed. His lips were soft even though his kiss was forceful. She'd been kissed, had boyfriends, sex partners, one-night stands. Well, two one-night stands and they both were in her college days. She'd thought she'd felt passion, desire, lust, but never like this. If this kiss was all that happened between them, and she certainly hoped it wasn't, this would be what she remembered on her deathbed.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, wanting him closer. She swore she heard him let out a small growl right before he used his weight to push her back. She found herself pressed between a stack of books and his amazing body. Right where she wanted to be.

She let her hands wander under his shirt and up his back. She traced down his spine with her nails and then back up with the pads of her fingers. Sam reacted to her touch by pressing her up against the wall harder. And it let Helen feel that he was getting harder too.

He removed his lips from hers to kiss down her jaw and neck. His hand moved to her breast, grasping it hard at first, making her gasp. She let out a small squeal when he starting kissing her clavicle. She ran her hands into his hair and moved so that her lips were next to his ear.

She bit his earlobe and then whispered, "You just going to tease me or are you going to fuck me?"

She only had a moment to marvel at those words actually coming out of her mouth before Sam scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to the couch and set her down on her feet, behind the back of the couch, away from him. Then he pushed her forward, so she was bent over the couch.

He squatted down and placed a hand on the outside of each leg. He slowly ran his hands up them, making sure he took the skirt with him. With every inch he raised it up, she got a little bit more nervous. She wasn't as body-confident as she liked to portray. And the lighting in this room didn't exactly scream sexy. But all her hesitance left her when she heard him unzip his pants.

He pressed the head of his erection against her core and she let out a small moan. Then he grabbed her hips and slowly slid his length inside of her. Her breath hitched as the sensation overwhelmed her. His head fell back as he let out a sigh of relief from appeasing his throbbing cock.

Sam slowly started to move in and out of her. He wanted to make this last because it felt too intoxicating. The sounds she made, how she raised her hips to take him in deeper, it made the rest of the world fade away, a momentary peace. The sight of himself gliding between her supple cheeks made him lose his control. He dug his fingers into her hips as he picked up his pace.

Helen felt like she was going to explode. Every time he pushed himself deeper inside her, she found it harder to contain her climax. But she didn't want this to end. She was afraid he would leave and she wasn't even remotely done with him.

She felt her body tighten and knew she couldn't hold out any longer. His relentless pace made it impossible for her to keep fighting it. She shut her eyes as her orgasm hit her and let out a pleasured cry. He didn't stop though, causing waves of bliss to flood her senses.

"Oh Sam," she hissed out, being overwhelmed by it all.

Hearing his name has a satisfied cry pushed him over the edge and his climax soon over took him. He thrust one last time, then bent over, collapsing lightly on top of her. He peppered her hair with kisses.

She quickly stood and turned around, making sure her skirt went back in place, after he withdrew from her and saw him zipping up his pants. "You going somewhere?" she asked, trying to sound playful.

He nodded yes and her face fell. Then he stepped towards her and wrapped her in his arms again.

"Right here," he smiled and kissed her again.

Helen heard a loud rumble and laughed through the kiss. "Sounds like someone is hungry."

Sam's smile turned sheepish. "I guess I forgot to eat today."

"Well, you're in luck! I'm an excellent cook and my apartment is actually just upstairs," she offered.

Sam stepped back and ran a hand through the back of his hair. "Oh, um, I don't…"

"Stop," she told him, knowing what he was going to say. "I'm not asking your last name. I'm not asking your number. I'm asking you to come to my apartment, let's eat dinner, and then, whatever happens happens. And if you're gone tonight or in the morning, you're gone."

Sam gave her a curious look. He didn't want to leave. The idea of spending the night with her was very enticing. And a home cooked meal was an awesome bonus. But he knew that he couldn't give her more than tonight and he wasn't really sure she would be happy with that, no matter what she said. In the end, the thought of having her, naked, to himself all night, won out.

"Ok," he finally answered while trying to stifle the hard-on beginning in his pants.

Her face beamed liked a child who just won the biggest stuffed animal at the county fair. "Great!"

She grabbed his hand. This time he was acutely aware of the warmth and smoothness of her skin. He quickly suppressed the image of it wrapped around him, stroking him because he needed to contain the situation in his jeans, at least for now.

He followed as she led him out of the back room, down a hall to a locked door that held the staircase. She punched in a code on the keypad and he could hear the lock disengage.

Jokingly he asked, "Am I going to be trapped up there? Not that it would be all that bad…"

Her laughter danced in her eyes as she replied, "Maybe…I've always wanted a sex slave."

Sam let out a hearty laugh. "Not like it would the first time."

She laughed again, slapping him on the shoulder. "Oh, hush!" she told him, believing he was just joking. "There's a button on the other side that automatically unlocks the door. Fire code and all that."

When they got to her apartment, she showed him around. It wasn't very big, so it was easy to do. She pointed out the bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen and even gave him the WiFi password.

"I've got to go lock up the store, so I should be about thirty minutes. You can do whatever. Take a shower, nap, watch TV. Mi casa es su casa."

He felt a little awkward. He couldn't remember anyone just giving him the run of their house before. Of course, the people he knew were generally overly paranoid. "You know, you don't know me. I could rob you blind or kill you."

She gave him a patronizing look. "I get good vibes from you," she explained. "I don't know what it is. I just feel like I've known you for a long time. Plus, there's DNA all over the bookstore." She flashed a devilish grin.

One corner of his mouth ticked up. "True, true."

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before opening the door to leave. "I'll be back in a jiffy." And she was gone.

"Great," he said to the empty apartment. "Now what?"


	5. Night Moves

Helen continued her stream of curse words under her breath as she entered her apartment. She had thought she would only be gone about twenty, maybe thirty minutes at most, but it had been over an hour. Right as she was about to lock the door, one of the regulars came up and, since he spent a lot of money in the shop, she didn't want to turn him away.

Helen was a little surprised when she didn't see Sam sitting on the couch, reading or watching TV. So she called out, "Sorry I took so long!"

"No problem," she heard him respond from the kitchen, as she became cognizant of the delicious smell in the air.

"What are you cooking?" she asked as she walked in to the room and was stopped dead in her tracks. She could only see him from the waist up, due to the counter, but it was more than enough to fuel many a fantasy.

Sam's hair was damp and combed back, so she guessed he took a shower. His muscular arms were bare as were his sculpted shoulders and back. She gazed at all his marvelous skin, imagining what it would taste like. She did giggle a little at the fact that he was wearing a gag apron her friend had given her which had a bikini clad woman's body on the front.

He looked up at her and explained, "I was looking for something to snack on when I discovered your fridge stocked with all of my favorite things, so I decided to make dinner. I hope you don't mind."

She guffawed. "Like I'm going to turn down a gorgeous half-naked man cooking in my kitchen!" Then she walked around the counter to get a good look at what he was making. She busted out laughing.

"Make that a three-fourths naked man!" she exclaimed through her laughs. The apron was the only thing Sam was wearing.

He grinned wide. She was absolutely gorgeous when she laughed. It seemed to light the entire room. "Didn't have any clean clothes. I thought about wearing your robe, but it was a little small. And pink, which I'm more of an autumn." He deadpanned.

She put her hand on her chin, like she was deep in thought, looking him up and down again. "I concur. And now that that's settled, what's for dinner?"

He turned from her, hiding what he was cooking. "It's a surprise." He wanted it to be a surprise at least. He didn't remember the last time he had cooked anything and especially couldn't remember the last time he'd cooked for a woman. Food at the bunker was mainly junk, already prepared. And now with all the people, kitchen time was at a premium.

"Well ok then," she acquiesced to his desire. "Do I have enough time to take a quick shower?"

"But of course, Madame," he replied in a cheesy French accent.

She slapped his bare ass and then she giggled. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself!"

He dramatically stuck out his butt. "More please!"

A flash of heat flushed her cheeks and a spark lit her eyes. _This man!_ She shook her head as she smacked his ass again. "Well, I better go take a shower before I cause you to burn dinner."

He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. She tried to hide the shiver that went down her spine at the intimate gesture. She then quickly exited the kitchen, telling herself not to make more of any of it than what it was. _One night,_ she reminded herself. _One night. You don't even know his last name and aren't allowed to ask._

Sam felt a little weird after she left the room, but not in a bad way. Here he was, naked, cooking dinner in a kitchen he'd never been in before for a woman he just met, yet it felt…normal. _All the more reason you shouldn't be here_ , his inner voice told him. _You've tried this before. It never works._

Sam shook the thoughts from his head. It was just a night. He just needed to enjoy it as it happened and not think too far in advance. _Have fun!_ he ordered himself, but continued to over think it.

Sam was just finishing up dinner when Helen appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. Her hair was pulled back into a bun that sat on top of her head. Helen didn't want to wear her hair this way because pulling her hair away from her face always made her more self-conscious. It wasn't that she didn't like the way it looked, because she did, it was just she felt it had to be perfect and she always had flyaways. But then she couldn't leave it down wet and she didn't want to take the time to dry it. She was wearing a tank top with a built in bra (less to take off later) and some over-sized boxers.

Sam gave her a low whistle. "You clean up nice."

She smiled and shook her head. "Yeah, yeah." Then she remembered she had something for him. "Oh, hey, I brought you some boxers too," she said as she threw them at him. "I figured you might not want to eat naked."

"Thanks," he replied as he put them on. They were a little tight, but, she was right, better than eating naked. "Ready to eat?"

"Absolutely!" she told him as they moved to the table and broke bread together.


	6. Do It Again

Sam and Helen had finished eating. They had finished dessert. Helen had even impressed Sam with her barista skills and made a couple cappuccinos. But they still sat at the kitchen table, smiling and talking.

Well, Helen had done most of the talking. Mostly because Sam loved hearing her stories and watching how animated she was when she told them. However, Sam was also leery of saying too much since she had read the books. Who knew what detail might make her suspicious or worse, think that he was just some weirdo messing with her.

Helen stood to clear the mugs off the table. She had begun to think he had decided he didn't like her, which she wouldn't blame him. So she was surprised when she reached for Sam's mug and he intercepted her hand, gently pulling her sideways unto his lap. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders to steady herself

"Hey," he said, as she sat down.

"Hey yourself," she ran her free hand through his now dry and kind of wild hair. "I thought you'd changed your mind."

He used his free hand to cradle her cheek. "Just enjoying your company. I rarely have the time to just sit and listen."

She snuggled in to the warmth of his hand and smiled. Then he pulled her face down to his and kissed her deeply. She sighed at the taste of him, all the deliciousness of dinner still present.

His free hand traveled down her neck and between her breasts, coming to a stop on her stomach, his hand slightly under her boxers' waistband. She separated her legs, giving him permission and an opening to go farther.

His hand continued the journey lower, his lips not leaving hers. When he reached his destination, she was already slick with anticipation. He bit her lower lip as he slid a finger inside her.

She let out another sigh. While she enjoyed their earlier romp this was much more personal. She enjoyed kissing him and getting to feel him, look into his beautiful eyes. His skin was glorious under her fingers. She felt like she was touching the Holiest of Holies.

He began to pleasure her, going slowly. There was an immense joy at having her this way. The look on her face as he hit her most sensitive spots. The little noises she probably didn't even realize she was making. The taste of her lips. And all the peace those things brought to him, at least for the moment.

Helen decided that she wanted more skin-to-skin contact so she removed her top as she turned to straddle him. She pressed her breasts against his chest as she gyrated her hips in his lap. She could feel his erection through the thin material of the boxers. She couldn't wait to get an actual look at it.

Sam seized this new opportunity to caress the bare flesh of her breasts, taking time to bite and lick her nipples. With each taste he grew harder until it was almost unbearable.

"Please," he rasped. "I need to be inside you."

The desire in his voice almost made her climax. She had never felt more powerful than at that moment. This unbelievably stunning man with a perfect body wanted her. Her, with her 10 (ok 20) extra pounds. With her crazy hair and weird interests. He wanted _her._

She couldn't deny, she wanted him too. She stood and slid her boxers off. He started to stand up but she pushed him back down in the chair.

"Nu-uh, mister. This is my rodeo now," she declared as she straddled him once more.

She sat back a little bit to give her access to his erection. She grasped it with her hand through the boxers. She started to rub it as she looked into his eyes. She could see the dark fire burning there.

Helen reached inside Sam's boxers and grabbed his cock. The feel of his velvet strength in her hand, against her skin. His head fell back, his breathing short pants. She wanted to stay in this moment, with him under her control, for the rest of her life.

She pulled her hand out of his boxers and brought him with it. Using his shoulders to steady herself, she raised up and then slowly brought herself down on him, guiding him inside. When she had totally sheathed him, she stopped moving. They stared into each others' eyes, connected in every sense of the word.

Sam was breathless, speechless. Sex hadn't felt this way in a long time. It had been perfunctory, filling a physical need. But this, this was filling an emptiness he didn't know he had. Maybe it was just because it'd been an emotional year. His mom. Lucifer. Jack. Rowena. Apocalypse World.

His thoughts were interrupted when she smashed her lips to his. Her tongue demanded entrance and he couldn't help but comply. Her body started to rise and fall, drawing out their mutual pleasure.

"Bed?" Sam asked, not being able to do all the things he wanted to do in their current positions.

She hesitated for a moment. She had never had a man in her bed here. Her partners had mainly been in the various cities she lived in, not here. And it wasn't that she didn't want him in her bed, she was just trying not to get too attached. Finally she nodded. There was so much more they could do in there.

She stood up but before she could take a single step, he stood and scooped her up in his arms again. She still couldn't believe he could. She had a couple guys criticize her weight but it didn't seem to bother Sam any.

Helen figured Sam must have remembered the way from when she showed him earlier, not that the place was that big or its location hard to figure out. He tossed her on the queen-size bed, then quickly took of the boxers and joined her.

He kissed and licked his way up her legs, stopping when he reached her sex. He spread her legs wide. She started to protest, never really having been comfortable with receiving this way, but the second his mouth closed around her, she saw stars and couldn't focus of anything else.

He began to apply pressure by licking and sucking the bundle of nerves where her pleasure centered. Then he decided to get his hand involved, slowly putting two fingers inside her. He timed his fingers with his tongue and she was quickly on the edge of ecstasy. But he didn't let her fall.

"Hmph!" she protested as he started to kiss his way up her torso.

He kissed up her stomach and between her breasts. Then up her neck to capture her mouth with his. She was still writhing beneath him, trying to get some friction to ease the feeling inside.

Sam used his knees to spread her legs apart again. He withdrew himself from her lips because he wanted to see her face. He shoved himself inside her and she cried out in pleasure.

Sam had gotten himself worked up when he was getting her worked up. Her pleasure only heightened his, made his head spin. Much like earlier, he was having a hard time keeping control of himself.

She never thought she'd like it a little rough, but the way Sam moved, it was all thrill. Plus, she knew if she asked him to stop, he would. And she highly doubted she could've said that to any of her other partners.

Helen grabbed his ass with her hands, pushing when he pushed. She was amazed at the muscles he had developed there and really began to wonder what he did for a living. Her thoughts quickly changed when his pace picked up.

She dug her fingernails into the flesh of his ass as she approached climax once more. He breaths became short, letting her know he was close too. She looked at his face and the immense satisfaction written there. She had never felt so beautiful.

Her breath hitched as she orgasmed, her delight a quick rush of air exiting her lungs. She heard a low cry of release escape from him at the same time and felt a slight stutter in his rhythm. She smiled at the thought of his pleasure.

Sam collapsed on top of her. His weight and warmth a welcome blanket. She kissed his neck and the side of his face.

After a few minutes, he rolled to the side. Helen followed suit so that they were facing each other. She reached out her hand and grabbed his. She needed to still be touching some part of him. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. Then he pulled her into him and wrapped his arm around her.

They lay there for a while, just holding each other, kissing, looking at each other. Neither could remember the last time they were so comfortable with another person. Helen was sorry it was going to have to end.

"That all you got?" she teased, a taunting smile on her face. If she only had him for the night, she was going to make the most of it.


	7. The Show Must Go On

Helen woke up with a smile on her face and an emptiness in her bed. She sighed as she rolled over to stare at the spot where Sam had been. She had hoped against hope that he would still be there, but couldn't say that she was surprised when he wasn't. Although she didn't know when he left. She barely remembered falling asleep, and she had tried really hard not to.

It wasn't that she wanted to say goodbye, which she really had hoped to do, it was that she really did want to spend as much time as possible with him. It wasn't just the sex either. They talked, a lot. She was amazed at how much he knew about mythology, alternate religions and histories, and she loved that he was really interested in all of her knowledge as well. And she couldn't help but wonder the odds of finding another perfect 10 (to the 10th power) that was as smart, funny, and, the most difficult to find, interested in her. Guess it was a good thing she stuck her card in his pants pocket when she went to take her shower.

She grabbed the pillow he had been using and took a deep breath. It was a mix of her shampoo and him, which made sense since he had used her shower. She was a little disappointed, not that she really needed a physical reminder. She knew she wasn't ever going to forget this night.

She flopped over unto her back still holding the pillow tight and stared at the ceiling. No one was going to believe her. Hell, she still hardly believed it happened. Maybe she should write it into a fan fiction story. People seemed to love those, especially about _Supernatural_. She wouldn't even have to change his name.

She looked over at the clock. Time to get up and open the store. She didn't think calling in 'laid' was a valid excuse. Plus, it was her grandmother. She tossed the pillow aside and sat up. No more delaying the inevitable. Life went on.

The road stretched on before Sam. He hated to leave when she fell asleep, but, at the same time, didn't want an awkward goodbye. He wasn't sure he would have even been able to say goodbye. It was so enjoyable to just have normal for a night, not that the sex was 'just normal'. It was amazing. But having someone he could talk to about all the craziness and bounce theories off of that had a lot of knowledge to add, that didn't crack jokes, it was exceedingly rare.

She never looked at him strange. She never told him he was full of crap, never acted like what he said was out there. She wasn't afraid to challenge him when she disagreed with him. She also gave him a new perspective on some old problems.

A small animal ran out in front of his car, causing him to slam on the brakes. His hat, which had somehow made its way back into the car, got slung forward, along with something under it that made a thud. He spied a book on the passenger side floorboard that must have been the cause of the sound. Left on the seat was an envelope that had his name on it.

His curiosity got the best of him and he pulled over. He couldn't imagine who could have left something in his car. He knew for a fact that Helen hadn't left the apartment the entire night. And no one even knew he was here….

Sam reached down and grabbed the book. Looking at the cover he was surprised to see the Men of Letters symbol on the front cover. He flipped through some of the pages, finding information on some monsters, but the majority of it was dedicated to Soul magic and how to access it. He picked up the letter, having to know what this book was all about.

 _Sam,_

 _Chuck told me to give this book to you or your brother if either of you happened this way. Here you are, so here's the book._

 _MHT_

"MHT?" Sam wondered aloud. He thought about it for a minute and then it hit him. _Marjorie H. Troy, Helen's grandmother._

Sam contemplated the last 24 hours. Was someone pulling his strings? Was it all just a coincidence? What the hell was going on?

And who exactly was Helen's grandmother? How did she know Chuck? What did he have to do with all this?

Sam ran a hand through his hair and the scent of Helen's shampoo hit his nose. A smile crossed his lips as he remembered her brilliant hair. And his arousal stirred thinking about being buried inside her, hearing her sighs of pleasure.

He tossed the note and book back on the passenger seat. He was glad to have the book. It would be very helpful, no matter how or why he got it.

And he was thankful for the memories of Helen. Their bliss would get him through some tough situations. And, who knew, maybe they'd meet again.

Sam merged back on to the road and headed back to the bunker. There was work to be done, always, and this book needed some serious attention. Life went on and so did the monsters.


End file.
